


The Power of Mistletoe

by inpiniteu



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Hoya/Myungsoo, Who cares if it's January
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5677471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inpiniteu/pseuds/inpiniteu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunggyu wants to take the Christmas decorations down. Woohyun would like to understand why.</p><p>He's certainly not going to give up on the mistletoe without a very, very, <i>very</i> important reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a quick birthday gift for the loveliest friend I could ever ask for, the Woo to my Gyu — Tiphaine.
> 
> It's my first time writing Woohyun and Sunggyu and it's just for her. I hope that this makes you happy and remember that I love you, dear chinggyu.

“Woohyun-ah,” Sunggyu calls, rubbing the back of his neck as a yawn slips past his lips upon entering the kitchen, “I think it’s about time we take all the Christmas decorations down.”

Woohyun stops rubbing the rice grains he’s washing, and he removes his hands from the cold water before grabbing the pot and draining the water out of it. “Why should we?” he asks once the task is done, only to fill the pot with more water again and putting it back on the table. Once that is done, he puts his hands under the cold jet of water and turns the tap off after close to thirty seconds, not bothering to dry them with a towel. 

“Well,” Sunggyu starts, padding across their kitchen in his fuzzy socks-clad feet. “It’s close to mid-January, you know.” 

Woohyun only raises an eyebrow at him, not getting the point his boyfriend is trying to make. Sunggyu might not share his overbearing love for Christmas and all the things related to it but asking him to put their Christmas tree and all the decoration away so suddenly is just a bit weird and unexpected. 

After all, it’s not unusual for them to keep the tree in their living room for at least a few weeks after Christmas and it hadn’t disturbed Sunggyu before. Never, in the six years they have been living and spending Christmas together, had Sunggyu made such an odd request and Woohyun wonders what could have happened for him to suddenly ask such a thing.

“I don’t see why it’s a problem, hyung. It’s _just_ a Christmas tree and some lights,” Woohyun states, reaching out to wipe out the toothpaste marks on the corners of Sunggyu’s mouth out of habit. “We can keep it for a few more days.” _Or weeks,_ he thinks, not that he will say that to Sunggyu yet. The last thing he wants at nine in the morning is to argue with his boyfriend and ruin the mood of what he knows is going to be a great day. 

Sunggyu doesn’t answer, instead trapping one of Woohyun’s fingers between his lips as Woohyun is about to remove them from his face, and nipping on it playfully for a few seconds before letting go of the digit. They both smile at each other and Woohyun feels a rush of love at the sight of his boyfriend’s sleepy smile. 

Woohyun is grateful for mornings like these, mornings when the two of them are able to laze around in their bed after the sun rises, not having to rush to get to work. 

Indeed, mornings when he’s home to prepare breakfast for his own boyfriend instead of running from markets to markets in order to find the freshest ingredients he needs for his restaurant menu are his favorite.

They’re a luxury now, though, and Woohyun hates that fact. He hates that the two of them are rarely able to spend a day at home anyway, nonetheless one _together_. 

Woohyun can count the number of days off that Sunggyu had last year on the fingers of one hand and while he doesn’t complain — won’t dare to even, because Sunggyu loves his job as a vocal trainer and Woohyun loves whatever makes Sunggyu happy —, he can’t help but long for more time with his boyfriend.

“Let’s spend the day cuddling in bed,” Woohyun whispers, wrapping both arms around Sunggyu’s waist, his fingers burying themselves in the grey hoodie, once Woohyun’s, that Sunggyu always wears to bed. 

Sunggyu hums as he leans against Woohyun, his lips brushing against the soft skin of Woohyun’s neck. “Only if we put all the decorations back in their box,” he answers, and Woohyun sighs, his thumbs pressing circles into the skin of Sunggyu’s lower back.

“What has gotten you all bothered, hyung? It’s just lights and mistletoe—” Woohyun can feel Sunggyu tense suddenly and he stops, leaning back to look at Sunggyu in the eye. “Is it the mistletoe? Did you kiss someone else while I was gone?” he jokes, a chuckle escaping his lips at what he knows is impossible.

Sunggyu scoffs, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend and his peculiar way of teasing. “No,” he finally replies after a while, “but I might have caught Myungsoo and Hoya making out in our coat closet last night.”

The two of them — more like Woohyun, actually — had decided to thrown an overdue Christmas party last night. Woohyun had wanted to cater the whole event, even spending his first day off in the kitchen. Sunggyu had let him be, knowing it made the other happy. _Making food is a form of love,_ Woohyun often says and Sunggyu supposes it’s true. He had even tried to help, but Woohyun had quickly chased him away, muttering under his breath about him being a _”living disaster”_ and ordering him to clean their whole apartment.

(Sunggyu had just lazed around instead, playing the grand piano that is set up near the chimney in their living room and singing all Woohyun’s favorite ballads, Woohyun occasionally singing along in the kitchen). 

Woohyun chokes on his own spit, leaning back to look at Sunggyu in the eye, “What? Are you serious? Do they even know each other?” Woohyun babbles, the surprise evident in his voice. 

Sunggyu shrugs. “Well, their tongues are definitely well acquainted by now,” he jokes, grimacing soon after as mental images of the scene he stumbled upon last night come back to haunt him and rendering him temporarily speechless.

“You’re gross,” Woohyun says, playfully slapping Sunggyu’s butt and letting his hand rest there afterwards. Sunggyu snorts but the smile on his lips betrays him. “I thought Howon had a thing going on with Sungjong, too!” Woohyun continues, his eyes meeting Sunggyu’s amused ones.

Lee Sungjong is the new face of Sunggyu’s company, one with such potential that he has been set up to debut before the year ends and this despite only having been street-casted a couple of months ago. 

This explains why the nineteen year old is spending all his days and nights intensively training with either Sunggyu or Hoya, the company’s head choreographer. Woohyun believing that Hoya and Sungjong were a thing isn’t really surprising, considering Sunggyu himself had quickly grown fond of Sungjong, enough at least to invite him to the gatherings Woohyun and he often organized. Spending days after days with the same people could do that to you. 

Sunggyu grins, shaking his head, “I guess he prefers the face of your pastry chef, Woohyun-ah.” As an afterthought, he cheekily adds, “I can understand why. Myungsoo is pretty handsome, after all.”

“Yah!” Woohyun growls, a frown on his face, “he’s off limits to you.”

Sunggyu laughs, lowering his head to catch Woohyun’s lips in a soft kiss before stepping back slightly. Both of their lips are slightly red and swollen and Sunggyu fights off the urge to kiss him again. “I don’t care,” he finally says, his eyes never leaving Woohyun’s, “I already have someone I love.”

“Good, then,” Woohyun breathes out, gently cupping Sunggyu’s face between his palms. Their lips meet again in a tender kiss that still leaves them both dazed. “I would have felt bad for firing him. He’s good at his job,” Woohyun whispers against Sunggyu’s lips.

“Hyung,” he asks after a few seconds, his breath hovering over Sunggyu’s mouth, “why should we remove the mistletoe, though? Both of them aren't coming to come back here anytime soon.”

“Let’s not take the risk,” Sunggyu pleads, still not over the sight of a half naked Hoya pinning Myungsoo against the door of their closet. “Nothing would have happened if you hadn’t decided to put one of these things in our freaking coat closet after all.” 

Woohyun had thought of that wonderful — to him, at least — idea, as he and Sunggyu always left for work together, putting on their shoes and grabbing their coats at the exact same time. Mistletoe there had guaranteed him to be kissed before separating for the day. Being kissed _one more time_ , to be exact.

“I didn’t hear you complaining when I put it up last month,” Woohyun argues, remembering how Sunggyu had just shrugged, opting to watch him put them up while sitting on the sofa. “In fact, weren’t you the one who—?”

Sunggyu places a finger over Woohyun’s lips, silencing him. “Let’s just put them down.”

“Only if we stay in bed for the rest of the week.” Woohyun negotiates, not completely ready to remove the mistletoe and lose the kissing power it holds yet. 

“Call,” Sunggyu says, grinning and peeking Woohyun’s lips one last time before removing himself from his boyfriend’s hold. He reaches for the cupboard, grabbing his favorite mug — white porcelain with trees badly drawn all over it, the red _“Nam Woohyun’s artwork”_ on the handle barely faded even after countless washes — and and he puts the still lukewarm coffee Woohyun has prepared earlier that morning into it. 

Sunggyu takes a sip and nods to himself in contentement as he leans back against the counter, his eyes focused on his boyfriend who starts preparing their breakfast again. “Hey Woohyun-ah?”

“Yeah?” Woohyun hums, barely glancing at him.

“About the cuddling thing,” Sunggyu trails off, smiling over the rim of his mug as he sees he has caught Woohyun's attention, “you do realize it's already Sunday, right?”

Sunggyu’s laugh and _”Nam Woohyun is an idiot”_ can be heard by the whole building as Woohyun chases him around their kitchen island, his plans for breakfast totally forgotten.


End file.
